25 Days of Christmas 3
by Zarak342
Summary: G1. 25 drabbles of Christmas. Third installment of December series, can be read alone. Jazz and Prowl are determined to not be seperated by war again this December. But Christmas is weird when everything is turned upside down. Slash implied but not main focus of story.
1. One illogical travel

**25 days of Christmas 3**

**First: One illogical travel**

It was back. Quickly, effectively, another year of battling Decepticons had passed and for the white saboteur it had passed swiftly. Plenty of fighting, injuries and saboteur-ing. He had much anticipation for the following month, knowing what kind of fun he would and could create, messing around with the baes and the crew again, even if they had gotten used to it.

Stopping in front of a very certain door, he could just make out a muffled groan of annoyance from the other side, making Jazz grin widely. He kept completely still in front of the door and only had to wait for a couple of minutes before it opened, Prowl walking out with the intent of hiding away in his office.

The tactician only just managed to stop before bumping into Jazz. Said saboteur could clearly see how Prowl tried to stifle the second groan on the first December morning. _Can't hide from it,_ Jazz thought, amused that Prowl would even attempt to drown himself in his work this year.

"I would appriciatte it if you would stop doing that," the Datsun deadpanned, doorwings only flinching a tiny bit as he moved past Jazz, who in response snickered and followed. "There was a reason behind giving you the door code."

Visor brightening together with a wide smile, he only managed to open his mouth before Prowl interrupted him by putting his hands up in a gesture to stop.

"No. Just… quiet," the second in command grumbled, only taking his hand down when Jazz shrugged and stayed silent.

The two walked through the hallways for a while in silence, Prowl – reading a datapad – almost forgetting where he was heading until reaching his office where, if he was lucky, he would be left alone to work. However, there was still one point he had to bring up.

"I'm guessing you're going to repeat your… Christmas chaos?" he questioned with a slightly arched optic ridge; Jazz knew he already knew the answer.

"Sure thin', Prowler. What's Christmas without a lil' fun?"

There was a twitch from the tacticians doorwing, clearly surpressing his retort.

"If I was to agree with certain points behind Christmas," Prowl had Jazz attention immideately, "would you tone it down a bit? As in, prevent from turning the hallsways into ice-skating this year?"

It was a subtle request that could almost be seen as a desperate plea. Jazz laughed, dismissing that it hadn't even been him to do the ice-skating trick but rather a smug Sideswipe. A brilliantly done thing, despite the many falls it had caused. "Fine, fine, no ice-skatin'," Jazz grinned. "Won't promise 'bout the snow though," he smirked finally. It was a continued success, after all.

Prowl gave a huff in response. The snow had been popular amongst many of the Autobots, to a point where it was one of the things they seemed to look forward to. That and the Christmas tree, meaning that there was nothing the second in command could do. The majority ruled when it came to those kind of situations.

Waving dismissively, not arguing further, Prowl indicated that he had to get to work and that Jazz could go ahead and start his Christmas havoc, despite how the tactician knew it would interrupt the normal duties. The datsun didn't need to spare Jazz a glance to know he was grinning widely before turning to leave, which just made Jazz grin wider.

The saboteur turned around to leave, most likely plan on a little decorating first, when…

Wall.

A clang could be heard as Jazz promptly collided with it, the mech moving back a couple of steps in shock and with a short splutter. Because there was a wall.

There wasn't supposed to be a wall there!

He stared for what seemed like forever, trying to figure out the mystery of the appearing wall, soon to hear a hitch of an intake behind him, followed by a frizzle and a clang as Prowl's logic center gave up on the solution and moved to freezing stasis.

Jazz agreed, it was completely illogical. Walls didn't just appear like that!

Especially not the purple kind.

* * *

_A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! 25 days of Christmas is now back with another absurd and crazy adventure! I love doing these stories and now for the third time in a row, I'll attempt my 25 chapter fanfiction!_

_I would like to mention that I am in University right now, and as we approach the 12th, I will probably focus more on my work (80 pages report), but once it has been handed in everything should be much easier._

_If you have read the two former '25 days of Christmas', you know Jazz and Prowl are together. They still are but I would like to mention that it isn't the main focus on the story. So sometimes it might just seem like there is nothing. This isn't heavy slash, sorry for those who like that._

_Also, the first 25 Days of Christmas is being put up under 25-tf-christmas-days._

_Please, ENJOY! Read and review and this day's question… What do you think is going on?!_

_Happy First December!_


	2. Two puzzling features

**25 days of Christmas**

**Second: Two puzzling features**

There was a click before a pair of blue optics finally began to glow again, whirring softly as they refocused.

"Damn, Prowler, 'at failsafe's a lot harder ta do than ya said."

The cheerful tone didn't really add up to the purple ceiling Prowl could see above him. The second in command of the Autobots took a moment to ignore Jazz and in favor figure out just what had happened. The change of color and appearance of a wall had been the problem, if he remembered correctly.

Pushing himself up to sit, Prowl concluded that the walls were still purple and the two mechs appeared to be in something akin to a… closer or a storage room. Glancing to Jazz, he only needed one demanding look to get an explanation.

"Dragged ya here," Jazz explained with a grin, seemingly unworried by the fact that they were at a base with purple walls. "Can't really leave ya fried in the hallway." Mentioning the hallways brought up the fact that the walls were still discolored and unless walls suddenly appeared out of nowhere that they had changed location. Prowl mulled over it. Could Skywarp have warped the two of them to the Nemesis? No, that wouldn't make sense, they would have seen him and it had happened to them at the same time. Skywarp wasn't fast enough for that.

"How…" Prowl trailed off. There had to be a logical explanation. He just couldn't see it.

"I did sum diggin' around while ya… slept." Jazz placed himself seated on the floor next to Prowl. "I don't think it's con territory."

"And what makes you say that? What else could it possibly be," Prowl rumbled, trying to get across just how fast he was losing his patience and logic circuits with this situation. "It's a very lame prank, in that case."

"Got a theory but it dun't matter right now, we shoul' get out," the saboteur said, giving Prowl one of his most cheeky grins. "Think ya can get up?"

Prowl didn't justify that with an answer, simply huffing as he pushed himself up, Jazz following with a chuckle leaving his vocalize. Still the tactician could sense that the other mech kept an optic on him and he knew why. His socalled 'failsafe' had been used rather than waiting for himself to online and it was a lot harder to reboot without issues like that. Prowl pulled through fine though.

Jazz listened to the door patiently and apparently hearing nothing outside opened it. He reeled back a second later when a – surprisingly quiet – mech stood right in front of the door and it almost made Prowl's logic circuit fry again.

"I thought I heard something. The slag are you doing in a storage closet with some mech?"

Jazz stopped short, staring openmouthed at the oddly colored Hot Rod who had an added as weird feature on his face.

"The frag's that on ya fave?-!" he spluttered, bewildered.

"What?" Hot Rod frowned, confused. "What's on my face?" he questioned as he brought a purple hand up to try and locate anything, but completely disregarding the lady-kidnapping-evil-guy mustache on this face.

* * *

_A/N: Jazz most of all wanted to reach up and rip it off._

_I've come to realize that the humor in this is going to start up much slower than usual. I'm sorry. In this, I write more directly from the brain without any real plan. I'm sorry._

_Please enjoy! Read and review, or do whatever you want! So can you guys see what's happening now?_

_Merry Christmas!_


	3. Three unlikely theories

**25 days of Christmas 3**

**Third: Three unlikely theories**

"This is ridiculous."

"Yep."

"Do not sound so casual about it, Jazz."

"Sorry, my logic center's jus' have'n easier time copin'," the saboteur grinned, shrugging to his roommate.

Prowl frowned, looking incredibly unhappy as he turned to face Jazz, arms crossed. "Our logic centers shouldn't _have_ to cope with this. It's…" the mech trailed off, his hand going in circles as he tried to find the right word for this… this… "It's absurd!"

"I don't think 'absurd' covers't at all," Jazz noted, moving over to sit on the berth in the room, glancing around. It was all very… Cybertronian. For him, a quite observant mech, it was easy to see that these mechs definitely hadn't been on Earth as of yet. It was the more subtle signs that the Autobots adopted, like the little added berth feature – a pillow – that had been worked onto the berths on the Ark.

The two Autobots had been placed in a little room for the moment, since the moustached Hot Rod hadn't recognized Prowl. Which was odd, but fair enough. It meant that Prowler didn't have to try and keep up an uknown act.

Jazz saw it as a challenge that he didn't know who he was trying to imitate.

"It sounds like one of Perceptor's theories," Prowl sighed, rubbing his nose bridge. He looked like he was about to crash again.

"Dun' think too much 'bout it, Prowler. Ya'll just go down again," the saboteur couldn't help but comment, smirking slightly.

"But alternative universes… Are you sure it's not just a Hot Rod clone?"

"Woul' Megatron clone _Hot Rod_, one o' the more annoyin' bots 'n' give him a mustache?"

Prowl was silent for a moment.

"Fine… alternative universe."

"An' hey, I get ta inflict Christmas on a whole new batch o' mechs," Jazz grinned widely, earning a pointed glare from Prowl.

"Don't you dare even-!"

The tactician was cut short by a knock on the door that soon opened to reveal Hot Rod – or as he had so strongly corrected, Rodimus – with the black and purple mech indicating to Jazz.

"C'mon, Prime wants to see you."

* * *

_A/N: So, we caught up with the pre-written chapters. Hopefully I will be able to keep up the pace from here on._

_I hope people enjoy and are having a good December so far, not too much ice on the roads?_

_R&R and Merry Christmas!_


	4. Four threatening words

**25 days of Christmas 3**

**Fourth: Four threatening words**

Jazz quickly found out that he would not like this Optimus Prime.

Having to impersonate a mech whose personality he had no idea about, the saboteur took in everything from the surroundings and what he could get out of Rodimus, trying to make certain that he could cheat Prime, get an idea of the general mentality of the bunch of non-Autobots.

The mentality, he realized, was dark.

Jazz' own theory of this being an alternative universe was still hard to comprehend even for him, but the further he walked with Rodimus the more he understood about this world. When they had passed through a hallway holding certain ornaments he had fully realized it.

Deactivated, grey frames floating in big tubes holding some sort of red liquid, as if preserving them in the moment of deactivation.

This Prime seemed worse than Megatron himself. And that wasn't an easy thing to beat.

It was a good thing that he had a visor on, because he could allow himself to show the shock and worry underneath it while his mouth stayed a thin, serious line. This Prime, who he saw sitting at his desk – in an morbidly decorated office like the hallway, but ten times more organized – looked nothing like his Optimus Prime. The most evident was the red optics instead of blue and the purple and black color scheme, but Jazz, being the forever observant saboteur he was, could easily sense the underlying danger connected to the big form.

Optimus got up from his desk and greeted Jazz with what best could be described as 'open arms' but the third in command knew better. As soon as Rodimus had left, Jazz gave a short nod to the Autobot leader. "Prime," he said simply in greeting, hoping it would suffice to call him that and not put some 'Lord' in front of it.

"Jazz," the big, red-opticed mech began – the color of the glowing glass was really disconcerting – as he walked over to stand in front of the saboteur, towering over the other mech. "You know I don't care much about what is being brought to the base," he said, for a moment almost sounding like the regular Prime, "unless it's fun." Definitely not like the real Optimus Prime. "But explain to me what a mech with blue optics and our symbol is doing here."

It caused the smaller mech to stop shortly. Optimus didn't know who Prowl was? Jazz had to keep his shoulders from relaxing, because that was an endless relief. It meant Prowl wouldn't have to figure out how to act as his counterpart, especially since Jazz didn't know him for much of an actor.

Now he just had to spin up a twisted enough story for him to keep Prowl around.

"Found 'im 'round while drivin'," he casually said, shrugging lightly. "Been wanderin' fer a while, he said. Ain't no 'Con, 'at's fer sure." He glanced at the red optics that had narrowed in thought, trying to figure out what was going on in that dark processor of a warped Optimus. "An'… I decided ter keep 'im."

An optic ridge was slightly raised, Optimus looking at Jazz. "Why?"

Jazz was quiet for a moment. "He ain't too bad lookin'," he shrugged.

Prime laughed at that, his studying ceasing as he seemed to be less suspicious. "As long as you make sure he won't leave the base, you can have him," the leader stated, amusement shining from the red optics. "I want to talk to him first though," he said, making Jazz frown a little. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Bring him in, Jazz."

* * *

_A/N: It won't end well._

_So the fourth was busy with my little brother's birthday, but I hope I'll pick up the pace in a day or two. Right now I am just quite busy with University work._

_How's everyone preparing for Christmas?_

_Merry Christmas!_


	5. Five small memories

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Fifth: Five small memories**

Prowl gently rubbed the many pliable metal plates making out his neck, wincing slightly when his digits gently brushed over the dented ones. It was an action he found himself doing far more than once, as if reminding himself what had happened, trying to get his logic center to compute just what was going on.

"Stop touchin' 'n' lemme have a look," Jazz sounded close to him, making the tactician look up at the blue visor though his head was further tilted back by a gentle grip on his chin. Prowl sat still on the berth where he had positioned himself, staring at the ceiling while the saboteur moved close, studying the harmed neckplates.

"… It ain't too bad," the mech eventually said as he released Prowl, the Datsun looking back down with another wince. "Yar self-repair shoul' be able ta fix it… Slagging Prime."

Prowl's mouth automatically opened to protest against the curse directed at their commander before snapping his mouth shut, remembering the situation. This wasn't their Prime after all. Jazz, who had obviously caught the reflex to correct him, grinned widely.

"'M sorry I gotcha into this mess."

The tactician frowned at that, staring squarely into Jazz' visor as if it wasn't there. "You didn't get me into this," Prowl deadpanned, speaking seriously to the other mech. "You couldn't have known this… Prime would grab my neck to intimidate me."

"Bu' I shoul' have done somethin'—"

"No," he huffed, cutting Jazz off. "You and I both know you couldn't have. Not without breaking cover and that would just have bought us both in bigger danger."

The silence between the two stretched as Prowl kept his gaze unflinching on Jazz' visor. He wasn't going to let the saboteur blame himself for this because he had a feeling Jazz was starting to feel guilty. Not only was it absurd but they couldn't afford to take their processors off the situation.

After a bit, Jazz smiled a little. "Ya should pro'lly recharge a bit. I'mma have a look around."

Prowl stifled a sigh, shifting a bit where he sat before agreeing with a simple nod.

"'N' jus' so ya know, can't move outta the room without this," he indicated, pulling a red visor from his subspace, placing it on the desk in the room. "Yaknow, ta hide yar optic color. Prime's orders."

Prowl frowned a bit unhappy with the thought of wearing a red visor, but there was nothing to do about it. They had to adjust their situation after all, though he wondered why Jazz didn't have to change his own visor color. Apparently it didn't matter and the tactician could soon lie down and rest his tired processor as Jazz slipped out of the room.

_ S_

Blue optics flickered online with a gentle tap against his helmet. Prowl took a moment to focus, seeing Jazz leaning over him with a huge grin plastered on his face, making the second-in-command give him a slightly puzzled look. What was there to be so happy about?

"Look 'at what I made," the saboteur said, putting something on Prowl's chestplate.

The Datsun shifted, trying to sit up without dislodging the item, unsuccessful as he had to catch it a moment later. Prowl was silent for a bit, staring at the badly welded and quickly put together metal Christmas heart in his hand before looking up at the clearly proud Porsche.

"… Cheesy," he eventually said, doorwings twitching in amusement.

Jazz snorted a laugh at that. "Happy December ta ya too."

* * *

_A/N: A cute little reference to former stories._

_So how does everyone think the story is going? Should I stop or are people actually reading this?_

_Has everyone decorated?_

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	6. Six shiny symbols

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Sixth: Six shiny symbols**

It was extremely odd to walk around on the Autobot base in a reversed universe, Prowl quickly concluded. Not only did he keep seeing follow 'Bots he knew with different colors, but there were several he had no clue about just from their frames.

Jazz had somehow found out that the mech they had met earlier was named 'Goldbug' and was their version of Bumblebee. The two had absolutely no comparison in either frame or personality. But at the very least Prowl didn't have to worry that he should know these mechs.

The saboteur on the other hand… Prowl knew he was working hard to make all this work, keeping up a constant act. Even if it didn't seem like these Autobots expected a different mech in colors or attitude, he still had to pretend to know Cybertronians he had never seen before.

So far it was working. Hopefully it would keep going.

The two of them made a habit out of not being too far apart when they were out of Jazz' room. At the moment they were in what could be passed off as a recreation room, getting a drink of energon. Jazz was chatting with some of his 'comrades' at a table while Prowl was getting a cube.

The Datsun stiffened when he heard a huff behind him.

"Hm… Prowl, was it?"

Turning around, he stared at the mech through the red visor covering his optics. There was some resembles to someone, but Prowl couldn't pinpoint who. "Yes?" he questioned the mech, wondering why he had been approached.

"Blurr," the mech said, causing Prowl to pause? This was their Blurr? Well.. at least he didn't talk as fast as his universe's speedster. "I was just wondering about that." He pointed towards the tactician's doorwing that automatically twitched in response.

It took a bit of twisting around before Prowl finally spotted what Blurr had meant and he instantly gave Jazz a deadly stare across the room. What was he thinking sticking that metal Christmas heart to his doorwing? And whatever he had used, Prowl had a feeling it wouldn't come off easily.

Running the information he already had on this universe through his head he made up a quick story. "… It's a traditional Praxian symbol," he said evenly, visored face focused on Blurr. "Nothing special… Just something for around this time." Prowl had guessed that Praxus was close to non-existent at this point in their history. At least he hadn't heard anything about it even with Jazz' subtle asking around. He hoped he wouldn't run into any Praxians that could say otherwise about the made-up cultural symbol.

"… Interesting," Blurr mumbled, studying the symbol uncomfortably close, almost touching it before Prowl's doorwing twitched, making the mech stop. The off-colored speedster just glanced for a moment before leaving him alone.

Prowl gave himself a moment to relax and keep his composure. He would make sure Jazz paid for this later.

_C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S_

The flicker of recognition made Prowl stop in the hallway, staring ahead of him for a moment before glancing over his shoulder. No… it couldn't be. Beside him, Jazz had walked a few steps before stopping as well, turning around with a confused frown. "Hey, Prowler, what're ya…" he trailed off when he spotted it as well.

The mech they had just passed had a.. _fashionable_ choice of symbol on his back.

Prowl openly gaped at the metal shape of a Christmas heart decoration the mech's back. It wasn't even Blurr, how in the world had this mech found out?!

Behind him, a laugh left Jazz, obviously greatly amused by this random appearance of something Christmas. "It's catchin' on!" he grinned widely to the dumbfounded Prowl.

* * *

_A/N: Unintentionally, Christmas is catching the interest of the odd Autobots._

_So, I wanted to ask if anyone is interested in any sort of situation or have a little story idea they'd like to see. I have some gaps to fill out until the story gains speed? Do share!_

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	7. Seven shifted stories

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Seventh: Seven shifted stories**

It was the start of a plan, seeing the new Christmas heart symbol attached to more and more mechs and hearing the explanation that Prowl had given to Blurr. So he said it was a Praxian tradition? Sure, Christmas could be Praxian for now.

Jazz grinned widely, knowing that Prowl didn't want him to make Christmas of this place as well. The tactician was partly right, it was a lot more dangerous to attempt any kind of Christmas chaos with this bunch, but that just made it all the more fun. They wouldn't find out it was him, it was part of his profession after all, sneaking around.

At the moment he was working on his current project, softly humming Christmas tunes to himself as he rewrote human Christmas stories so that they were more compatible to Cybertronians who had no clue about life on Earth. Collecting the small stories on datapads he had already begun to hide throughout the base, Jazz was delighted by the response he got. Sure, a lot of the 'evil mechs' found it ridiculous and wouldn't even bother, but Jazz had seen a few actually share the stories they had found.

"Jazz, I think you're taking this a little too far," Prowl mumbled absently where he was sitting on his own chair, reading through one of the stories Jazz had crafted. A quick glance confirmed it was the one with the character called Scrooge.

"Psh, ain't nothin' too far fer Christmas," Jazz grinned widely, putting another finished story aside. "Ya see, I think 'ey like it."

Prowl frowned. "If you're referring to the retellings in the rec room, I think it has become more of a treasure hunt than anything else."

"Good 'nuff fer me," the mech hummed, trying to figure out what Christmas story to translate next.

"You never listen to reason this month," Prowl murmured as his optics scanned the datapad in his hand.

"Do I ever listen ta reason?"

"… Point taken."

Jazz snickered as he started to write on a new datapad.

_C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S_

"I heard you found a new one, which one is it?"

"It was really weird though, about some metal creation in the Plains coming to life and calling itself Frosty and some odd scrap like that."

"Tch, that's not new, slagface."

"Who're you calling a slagface, rustheap?"

The two recordibots walking in front of him was just about to go into an all out fight, if Blaster hadn't lightly kicked the two small Autobots, causing them to huff.

"Watch it," Eject said, crossing his arms while Rewind grumbled, rubbing the spot. Usually, Blaster was all for watching his recordibots, his cassettes, beat each other up in a silly quarrel, but tonight they had some work to do.

"If you vork hard, I mighz zhare zee ztory I fount," the brown and black said smugly, accent carrying easily in the empty hallway. Blaster smirked when he saw both recordibots look ever so interested.

This settled what Blaster thought of the hidden stories. They were definitely useful.

* * *

_A/N: It was perhaps one of the weirder stories yet, Blaster thought._

_Now is probably a good time to say that I haven't read any Shattered Glass stories except the first comic. Meaning these stories take a lot of research._

_I had no idea Blaster had a german accent, hah!_

_It's so nice to see some familiar faces from the prior years. Hi!_

_So how's everyone's December being? Got any good traditions started already?_

_And, my dear Guest reviewer, it is a question to be answered soon._

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	8. Eight eerie surprises

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Eighth: Eight eerie surprises**

There were a few questions that Jazz would never be able to find an answer on. One of them, for example, was what had happened to this universe's Prowl if not a single one of the Autobots here knew him. Another would be what had happened to his counterpart.

He had discussed this in-depth with Prowl, because the tactician was not happy with the logical conclusions. Either the new presence of another Jazz had pushed the one belonging here into oblivion or a temporary place of existence.

The one theory they didn't like was that the two had switched places. That was definitely not something they wanted to consider. The thing was, both Jazzs looked alike, so there could be a cruel Decepticon-like Autobot walking around on the Ark, amongst friends and humans, ruining December.

Prowl had scoffed, arguing that it was hardly the most important detail of that situation.

To Jazz it was. He knew that the Autobots – their proper Autobots – could celebrate Christmas just fine without his presence but he wasn't sure how it was supposed to go down with another version of him.

Which meant they'd have to find a way back soon, hopefully before Christmas.

They already had plans for leaving and locating the Decepticons – as weird as it was, the 'Cons here were the good guys. It would be a tricky and dangerous plan, but it was better than the act they had to keep up here. Some of the stuff these guys talked about casually in the recreation room made him want to kick their backplates.

He knew he was supposed to be Prime's bodyguard with some other mech and that he was supposed to enjoy those cruel talks, but he really didn't. And he was sick and tired of pretending to.

He stopped in the hallway, huffing to himself. He had to dig a bit more, figure out how much the Autobots knew about the Decepticons and their possible location. Though they hopefully didn't know, he still needed a clue.

Blue visor flickered for a second as he rebooted his optical sensors. Wait, were his optics glitching? That couldn't possibly be…

_C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S_

Prowl jumped when the door was suddenly opened and Jazz rushed in to close it again. The tactician stared, watching the mech frantically lock the door and slam his back against the closed door, looking like he had just seen something he wasn't sure if he should be horrified, shocked or amused about.

For what felt like minutes, Jazz was just staring ahead of him, a grin twitching on his faceplate before it fell again and intakes heaving to cool the momentary panic down.

The Datsun frowned. "Jazz, what are you-"

"I," Jazz cut Prowl off, finally looking to him, the shock now the most obvious emotion. He was silent for several moments longer before finding the right words.

"I have a brother!"

* * *

_A/N: There's a shocker._

_Welcome to some of the many differences in Shattered Glass. Jazz' brother/twin._

_This was planned to happen sooner or later, but I was happy to see that someone wondered about it._

_Hopefully I can catch up with another chapter today!_

_Tomorrow will be interesting for me. We have a snowstorm all Sunday, transport to Uni will be horrible! How's the weather where you're at?_

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	9. Nine dark thoughts

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Ninth: Nine dark thoughts**

Something was different.

He wasn't quite sure what it was that had made itself so obvious that even _he_ could see it. It was just a few details that had changed, but something still seemed different… and with that, it seemed wrong.

Something was up.

Ricochet knew it. He knew Jazz well enough to know he was acting different. It wasn't enough for the others to notice, but enough for him. He was the look-alike brother after all, the second bodyguard protecting Prime and causing wreckage in battle. It was such an enjoyable job he unfortunately shared with his brother.

He they had the bond, he would have been able to tell what was wrong immediately. But like most relations within the Autobot army, bonds were considered a disadvantages and had been permanently blocked from both sides. Jazz wanted to share a bond as little as Ricochet did.

The base occupants were also acting different. He wasn't quite sure why, but they seemed to having adapted some rather odd symbols which meant nothing and they had started reading stories that had no purpose.

To Ricochet, a malicious mech enjoying war, it made no sense.

Which meant he had to make sense of it.

Something had changed some light cycles ago, and it had started with Jazz and that odd mech he had brought along. The one that followed Jazz around whenever he was out.

What was the designation? Patrol… Pro… Prowler?

Prowler, that was it, he had heard Jazz say it a few times. So it had all started with Prowler.

Ricochet smirked slightly as he turned around in the hallway, heading in another direction, yellow visor flashing as he attempted to make up a somewhat usable plan in his processor.

If it all had started with Prowler, he would just have to make sure it ended with Prowler.

* * *

_A/N: Du-du-duuuun._

_Okay, two chapters Sunday was not something I managed. At the moment, I won't be able to, I'm stressing too much with the approach of the deadline. Hopefully after it's turned in._

_Little short build-up chapter, sorry about that._

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	10. Ten watching screens

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Tenth: Ten watching cameras**

Red optics narrowed dangerously as the sound of doors swooshing open sounded behind him. He hated being disturbed by anyone he hadn't specifically invited himself.

"Red Alert."

Not even the dark rumble of his leader's voice was welcomed in his monitor room.

"Prime," he grumbled stiffly as he glanced over his shoulder and the dark mech moving inside the poorly lit room. Optics were soon back on the many screens, following the warriors, monitoring, guarding and gathering all the private information he could.

"I have some questions I need answered," Optimus eventually said, his own optics tracing over the screen though not gathering as much from them as Red Alert was. The security officer knew no one could match his skills.

"You know the deal," came the curt response, the mech not shifting an inch on his chair. He knew how much Prime enjoyed to get his way with his orders, but the leader knew that Red Alert didn't play along on that game. He only traded information.

It took a moment but soon a cube of rich high grade was placed on his worktable. Red Alert studied it for a moment before deciding it was good enough. "What do you want?"

"The… happenings on the base. I need an explanation."

Red Alert immediately knew what Optimus was talking about. The unusual situations, the new 'traditions' that somehow had nudged their way into the everyday life on the soldiers. The security officer believed it had mostly happened out of pure boredom. There had been no attacks or new Decepticon prisoners to mess with recently.

Trained digits quickly travelled over his command station, bringing up certain images he remembered from the recent days, smaller things like mechs finding hidden stories or carrying around that new symbol.

"Who did it?"

It was a simple question that Red Alert hated he couldn't answer. "One of you soldiers. The mech knows the location of all the cameras, I haven't caught anyone in action," he huffed, displeased with the glance the Prime gave him. "My best bet is the new mech," he eventually said, pointing at the screen that showed a picture of this new 'Bot.

"He's Praxian. The new traditions are said to be from Praxian culture."

As Prime was thinking this over, red optics narrowing, Red Alert let his own optics glance back over the live feeds, always watching for anything Decepticon or… new?

His ever careful optics had almost missed the new appearance of something on the wall. Typing a bit, he studied as the screen zoomed in on the object dangling from a doorway. At first he had thought it was that Praxian symbol again, but it turned about to be a completely different shape and carry a vague green color. Red Alert didn't know what it was, but the sudden appearing of it frustrated him.

He had just turned his optic away for a click. How could the mech know to place it then? A soft growl escaped the security officer, completely ignoring the presence of the Prime now. He would get to he bottom of this and find the culprit. No one messed around on his constant duty and without his knowledge.

The big mech beside him shifted but Red Alert didn't take his optics off the screens. He didn't need the leader's words to know where the mech were heading, he would always have his screen to watch all the mechs of the base and keep track of them.

* * *

_A/N: He's always watching._

_Red Alert doesn't have an official shattered glass personality, so I gave him one. A possessive, ever watchful mech just keeping track of everything you do so he can use it against you or trade the information._

_Anyways, the weather is really bad here and I'm stressing out over an approaching deadline. Hopefully I can keep on schedule with this. Hopefully._

_How's the weather where you're at? Getting snow?_

_And I'm always up for suggestions and ideas!_

_Please review, enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	11. Eleven lost fights

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Eleventh: Eleven lost fights **

He was starting to regret his decision to stay in and study a few datapads about this world's history. Right there, it didn't seem like the best situation he had put himself in, but he couldn't have known.

Prowl knew that Jazz had a brother – an almost identical one at that – but he hadn't expected the mech to be… this crazy.

Circling carefully around the desk, the Datsun kept his optics fixed on the madly grinning mech, his frame slightly down in a battle ready stance in case this mech, Ricochet, decided to pounce again.

"Oh, I know it's your doing," the Decepticon-like Autobot, odd looking version of Jazz, said. Grinning wickedly as he stood on the other side of the desk, Ricochet looked terrible smug about this he had figured out. "Jazz' been acting off every since he got you, Praxian."

Got him? Prowl had to keep from scoffing. If the lookalike knew the real deal, he was sure he wouldn't be so smug about it. At the same time, it would probably be more dangerous. "You're making incorrect conclusions," the tactician stated in his calmest voice possible while watching the enemy closely. He couldn't predict the actions of this mech. Autobots, he knew. Decepticons, he knew. This mech, he had no clue about.

_/Jazz, it's time you hurry up,/_ he hissed through his communication link to the mech who he had already warned about the new presence in their room. Just as he had sent the message, there was movement in front of him.

Prowl reeled back when Ricochet suddenly leaped over the table easily, slamming into the Datsun's bulk and forcing him against the wall.

"If you're the problem, I'll just have to get rid of you. Then no more weird Jazz and no more Praxian traditions."

Prowl growled back, bringing his knee up suddenly. It made a satisfying sound as it connected to the mech's midsection. Ricochet doubled over at the sudden force, giving Prowl the chance to connect his fist with the Jazz lookalike's face. As he forced himself free from the other mech, moving backwards to keep an ever watchful optic on him, he cursed at Jazz in his mind. What was taking him so long? There was only so much Prowl could do without weapons.

Right there the tactician hated that he hadn't been allowed any weaponry, being the 'stranger mech' that he was.

Glancing over his shoulder, he located the door and quickly calculated how fast he could get there and what could go wrong. He knew he could make it.

Without warning, he was forcefully tackled to the ground. Ricochet had recovered faster than Prowl had expected, leaving him in a situation where he struggled to keep the mech off. And Ricochet was still grinning widly, though it looked somewhat strained. It was probably due to the kick in the midsection.

When the Datsun tried to repeat it, the Jazz lookalike had already learned from his first mistake and he stopped the knee from connecting again.

Improvised hand-to-hand fighting wasn't one of Prowl's strengths. He always tended to calculate and try to think ahead, which made him an easy target for a changing attack pattern.

He would have to take more fighting lessons from Jazz after this.

"Just lie still and it'll make it easier," Ricochet said as he released Prowl a bit to reach for something in subspace. The following punch to the visored face hardly seemed to faze him. An energon knife was pulled from the mech's frame.

If he thought Prowl would just lie there and die, he had another thing coming.

The knife cut through the air as Ricochet stabbed it at Prowl's chestplate, a searing pain following as the blade cut through the metal of Prowl's arm easily. The Datsun grimaced but didn't regret his decision to block his spark with a less essential part of his frame.

With a sudden jarring motion he forced his arm away, effectively tearing the knife out of Ricochet's hand before Prowl recoiled the hand now clenched in a fist.

The punch hit the mech squarely in the face, yellow visor cracking with the might. Despite not falling off, Prowl was on top of the battle in the matter of split-seconds. He could ignore the warnings of a physical injury on and in his arm. Now he had to get the mech off and get out.

The growl from the Decepticon-like Autobot was accompanied with a strong grip around Prowl's throat. The tactician had miscalculated the mech's speed and brutality again. He blamed the alikeness Ricochet had to Jazz for that fatal error.

Prowl grabbed at the offending digits but felt the hold tighten.

Ricochet clearly didn't linger on formalities like threats for long.

He could already feel his intakes forcing in more air as plating was bend and tubes forced shut. Warnings of an overheating frame and lack of energon to the processor flashing in front of his optical view. The kick to the enemy's frame didn't help that.

He didn't fear the deactivation as much as he loathed that it was someone looking like Jazz who stood over him, pressing his neck against the floor.

A flash of plasma almost blinded Prowl as it travelled right over his head, almost singeing his chevron before connecting with Ricochet's upper chest, promptly forcing him away. He heard the violent curse from the offender the same time he heard a familiar voice as he was being helped up.

Prowl didn't let Jazz fret over the damaged arm, even with the blade still in it. They didn't have time for that.

"We need to leave," he said calmly, hearing Ricochet still moving around probably trying to figure out what had happened. Jazz frowned and nodded.

"C'mon, I can sneak ya past Red's cameras."

* * *

_A/N: Which was not an easy thing._

_Deadline_

_Deadline!_

_DEADLIIINE!_

_OKAY, I am really really sorry. The group had our deadline today, handing in 80 pages of report which we've been working like mad on. And the last couple of days got really busy. So now I'm even further behind but I am hoping to catch up eventually. Seeing that the main deadline is over (though we're still not finished), I'll hopefully get more time and less stress._

_Other than that, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I'm not quite sure why though._

_Please enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	12. Twelve jolly jokes

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Twelfth: Twelve jolly jokes**

When Prowl winced, Jazz couldn't help but do so as well.

The knife had luckily not severed anything essential, even if pulling had send a wave of pain over the tactician. Jazz knew Prowl was trying to hide it but he was well trained in seeing these things. Doorwings stiffening and twitching, especially when Jazz started a mediocre patch up.

"How's yar arm feelin'?" he asked carefully, giving the mech's faceplate a glance and seeing it set in a stoic frown.

"Numb…" came the answer as Prowl shifted his arm a bit, clenching and unclenching his hand.

"Guess 'at's better 'an pain," Jazz grinned as he stood, glancing around. They had found somewhere far enough from the Autobot base to settle and treat the wound on Prowl's arm. Which mostly consisted of pulling the knife out and close the wound up. They were alone for now, but it probably wouldn't last. They had to find refuge on the Decepticon base and Jazz was fairly certain he could find it.

He really hoped so anyways.

Pulling Prowl up to stand he gave the tactician another cheeky grin, earning an annoyed huff from the Datsun. It was nice to be out of that place where he had to keep up a constant act and where Prowl was constantly considered a stranger. He had gotten more than a few nasty comments about having found the Praxian.

"I don't suppose you know the location of the Decepticon base?" Prowl then asked, looking around himself. Jazz would have to hand that to him; the logical mech had gotten used to the reversed situation fairly quickly.

"Not really. Bu' got a clue," he hummed as he started to walk with Prowl beside him, turning in the direction he had figured was the right way. "Whacha think we'll have ter say ter get in?" he couldn't help but ask, grinning.

Prowl scoffed. "'Hello, we're from another universe and Jazz is Christmas-crazy' won't work."

Jazz laughed. "Figured it woul'n't."

They were silent for a bit, just walking.

"It's gonna be weird, man," the saboteur eventually said. "Good-guy Megs? Wha'dya think Screamer is here?"

"… The opposite of screechy and whiny?"

"Prowler, 'at gotta be the closest thing ya've ever gotten ter a joke."

Jazz didn't get a response to that and he hadn't expected one.

Instead their attention was drawn to small shuffling sounds until suddenly an order to 'stop' was given by an oddly familiar voice, those he knew as cruel Decepticons.

Turning to face the voice, both him and Prowl put their hands up in a surrendering gesture through Jazz had a hard time masking his grin. Look at that, the 'cons had found them.

"Hey 'ere, Predacons," he grinned to the group of three, led by Razorclaw.

* * *

_A/N: The next part was going to be hard to explain._

_Bit of an interlude. But I hope people won't mind? The activity on this story is already low to begin with but I won't give up on it! XD I know even though they're not doing as well as the other stories, people still enjoy it._

_Enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	13. Thirteen loud songs

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Thirteenth: Thirteen loud songs**

"Aw c'mon, we're the good guys!"

Jazz stumbled when he was pushed into the brig's cell, moving a little back so Prowl wouldn't crash into him when he got the same treatment. Despite the situation – the energon bars turned on and the Decepticons leaving – Jazz couldn't find himself to be too worried. Even if these 'Cons didn't believe them, they'd still be more safe there than they had been with the Autobots.

Huffing, the saboteur sat himself on the ground while Prowl sat on the simple berth, looking highly displeased with the situation.

"Don't be like 'at," Jazz couldn't help but grin a little at the Datsun. "A' least 'ey fixed yar arm."

While Prowl didn't seem up for commenting on that, Jazz knew they had made the right choice of getting out of the Autobot base. The Decepticons had at least listened to them though not believing them and at the same time fixed up any injury. The 'Cons were the good guys after all. "Where's ya Christmas cheer, Prowler?"

"It's hardly the time, place or _universe_ for Christmas cheer," the tactician said, rolling his optics slightly.

"I'll make ya cheery."

"Please don't…"

Jazz smirked, a plan already forming in his processor.

"Snow is fallin'."

Prowl stiffened, his doorwings jerking in surprise at the smooth voice that Jazz rarely used to anything but…

"All around me." Jazz was grinning widely, his voice a little louder.

"Not now."

"Children playin', havin' fun!" Jazz' voice was definitely rising in volume, echoing in the empty brig.

"Jazz, _please_."

"It's the season," he continued singing, despite Prowl's frustrated groan, "of love 'n' understandin'!"

He cut off mid-verse, grinning like a fool at Prowl who returned it with a glare that could most likely kill. For a long time the silence stretched and Prowl was just about to think he won until…

"MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!"

* * *

_A/N: You can bet the 'Cons were confused._

_Okay, not completely out of the stress yet. I'm still attempting to relax._

_I'm really happy to see the responses from yesterday. It makes me so happy that someone is reading and enjoying the little chapters. Thank you!_

_Christmas is closing in!_

_Please enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	14. Fourteen cell surprises

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Fourteenth: Fourteen cell surprises**

By the time another mech showed up on the other side of the bars, Prowl finally had enough. Jazz had been humming and singing non-stop and it was driving him up the wall!

Almost literally.

Even if his doorwings automatically twitched in recognition of some songs it didn't mean it was an open invitation for Jazz to continue.

Getting up, Prowl moved to the bars to try and talk some sense into the mech and hopefully get them out of this current situation. "I understand you are suspicious of Jazz but at the very least you don't have to be of me. I'm not an Autobot, I'm a Praxian without an alliance. If that's not good enough can't you at least put me—" Prowl stopped when he realized how familiar the white and red mech was. It took him a moment of studying with a raised optic ridge before he saw it.

"Starscream?"

The humming in the background immediately cut off in favor of a surprised "Wait, what?" and a following scramble as Jazz quickly moved to the bars as if he would miss the sight if he wasn't fast enough. Starscream looked increasingly confused by the situation and Prowl couldn't blame him for that. This mech didn't look a lot like Starscream and here he had to be completely different.

Jazz on the other hand just laughed out loud. "Holy scrap, it is Starscream! This' so messed up, man," he grinned widely, leaning heavily against Prowl. The tactician had to keep from rolling his optics. This wasn't helping their situation.

Starscream turned his attention back on the datapad in his hand, making a thoughtful sound that made Prowl try to spot what the datapad said.

"Highly fascinating," the scientist – Prowl guessed – said.

And as sudden as the mech had arrived, he suddenly turned around and left the brig, blue optics fixed on the datapad. Beside Prowl, Jazz uttered a quick, "Aw, he's leavin'."

Prowl sighed, rubbing his nose bridge. He had gotten nowhere with this. Not to mention he was still stuck with—

"_I don't want a lot fer Christmas,_" Jazz suddenly started to sing again, the cheeky grin back full force.

"The second we get home, I'm putting you on cleaning duty," Prowl snapped.

"_There is just one_ – aw c'mon, that ain't fair!"

* * *

_A/N: Of course he had his ways to get out of cleaning duty._

_A bit of a funny interlude again. I'm sorry, I know I'm around 5 days behind, but I've had a period of severe stress and some personal issues. Hopefully I'll be back on track before Christmas! WHICH IS REALLY SOON!_

_Are everyone prepared well?_

_Please enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	15. Fifteen promising deals

**25 Days of Christmas**

**Fifteenth: Fifteen promising deals**

They had been given an audience with Megatron, the leader of the Decepticons. It was a mixed feeling of dread and anticipation. How was this Megatron like? Sweet? Soft-sparked?

Jazz' attentive audios caught murmured chatter of 'backwards polarities' through the door before it swished open, revealing what was probably Megatron with the white and red Starscream beside him.

The view was truly astonishing. Because this was Megatron, before an Earth mode, with blue optics and a thoughtful frown on his face. This was the Megatron both him and Prowl could recognize through millennia of fighting and surviving, both knew those optics shaded red and carrying a world of threats.

This wasn't their Megatron.

Thank Primus for that.

"Praxian," Megatron said lightly in greeting as the two Autobot prisoners walked in, hands cuffed in front of them for safety. The blue optics darkened slightly as he looked at Jazz as well. "Jazz."

Clearly, Megatron was familiar with Jazz, or at least the other version. The saboteur wasn't surprised. This universe's Jazz was Optimus' own bodyguard and where Optimus was, Megatron would be as well. He had a feeling that wouldn't change no matter the alternative universe.

Jazz had to keep from giving a cheeky grin, knowing it wouldn't be smart. Instead, Prowl wisely started talking.

"We appreciate the willingness to listen, Megatron," the Datsun said, his tone serious but calm. "Can I come to the conclusion that you've already been briefed on the… theory?"

"You can," the leader's voice rumbled in the same tone that was so familiar in the good Optimus Prime's voice.

"Then you can confirm if the studies for us being 'untrue' were proven wrong and that we are who we are."

"You are neither clones nor reformats, that was confirmed. However, it does not tell us that you are… alternative versions of Jazz and…"

"Prowl."

"And Prowl," Megatron said. "You have.. unlikely readings, different systems and unknown vehicle modes. But the risk of it being a trap is too great."

"And is there no way of proving who we are?" Prowl frowned lightly.

"There is. Jazz can show us his spark chamber."

That drew an immediate reaction from Jazz. "Whoa, whoa, what?"

"Megatron, I hardly believe that could prove anything. At all," Prowl was quick to defend as well.

"… No, I suppose alternative versions wouldn't know," Megatron said with a light frown before explaining. "The Autobots have this… grotesque rite of joining their ranks where they will forge the Autobot symbol from metal taken directly off the spark chamber. If Jazz does not hold the marks on his chamber, he is no Autobot."

The two Autobots were silent for a while, Jazz giving Prowl a glance that was returned. Such a gruesome thing could actually work in their favor, but the idea of exposing a spark chamber like that to Decepticons of all things was unnerving.

Jazz was the one to take the decision though; unworried because he knew he had nothing to hide. "Ya're welcome ter look," he said, finally grinning lightly. Prowl frowned but didn't comment despite the fact that Jazz knew he wanted to. It only made the saboteur grin wider.

"'Ey, at least ya won't have ter list'n ter my singin' when we get outta the cell," he chuckled, getting a noncommittal huff out of Prowl.

* * *

_A/N: It wouldn't be too bad, Jazz was sure._

_Okay, I am finally free. Really, lovely free from going to campus every morning. I still have exams to study for, since they are placed after New Years, but I am so happy to be free._

_Any suggestions or idea for the following fun days with the 'Cons are welcomed!_

_Enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	16. Sixteen bad decorations

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Sixteenth: Sixteen bad decorations**

Prowl quietly studied the quarter that had been provided for them. After they had examined Jazz' spark chamber and found no traces of lost metal, the two had been cleared to go around the base as they wanted.

The other Decepticons had been told of the situation, saying that this Jazz wasn't the one they knew and he was one of them. Still, Prowl had caught plenty of nasty glares directed at the saboteur. Jazz pretended he hadn't seen it but the tactician knew he noticed everything.

Right now Jazz was humming again – so much for not having to listen to that – and walking around to 'redecorate' the room a little bit. Of course his first priority was to get some Christmas into the new lives.

"Jazz, do you really have to put a Christmas heart there?" Prowl asked with a bit of an annoyed tone as another home-made Christmas heart was pulled out of subspace and smacked straight on the wall, in a crooked angle no less. The tactician was ignored in favor of some more decorations that Jazz had been hiding in subspace.

Prowl wondered when he had had the time to make them.

"Jazz, not on the-!"

The saboteur rebelled with a wide grin as he put a little star over the lens of the camera in the room. Prowl huffed, not admitting that he was a little pleased that it had been covered.

By the time there was a light knock on the door, the room was an absolute mess of not very pretty Christmas decorations. The door swished open without any invitation, since they hadn't been allowed a door with lock – just for safety.

A mech Prowl recognized in frame but not in color walked a couple of steps in before stopping, staring.

For a moment, Prowl was suspicious because this wasn't a Decepticon, but an Autobot. Though seeing the Autobot symbol with a large gash over it, Prowl guessed this one had defected.

"So I was going to ask you to clear the camera but…" the third occupant of the room trailed off, red optics looking around.

"Aw, c'mon Siders, we ain't gonna do nothin' ya can't just stop," Jazz smiled to Sideswipe, recognizing the mech as well.

Sideswipe looked torn for a moment before the raised optic ridge was accompanied with a grin. "You are nothing like Jazz, you know that?" he couldn't help but chuckle, watching Jazz take a light bow at the compliment. "Ah whatever, I'll ask Megatron to drop the camera, shouldn't be a problem," Sideswipe huffed, waving his hand dismissively. "But only if you tell me what you got going here."

Jazz laughed, ignoring the glare Prowl sent his way. "Sure thing, Siders!"

As Sideswipe turned and left the room, Prowl groaned softly, rubbing his nose bridge. If this was like the first Christmas chaos month, then Primus save them all.

* * *

_A/N: This would end up bad, Prowl knew it._

_I managed to write it before doomsday! Funny thing to say, don't think I'll ever get to do that again XD_

_How's everyone doing? It's the 21__st__, Christmas is very, very soon! I just managed to buy all my presents today._

_I'm still in dire need of Christmas ideas! Anyone have something they want to see, tell me._

_Oh, and I forgot to answer a question on the last chapter. This is BEFORE Cliffjumper arriving in the IDW story but AFTER Sideswipe defecting._

_4 days to go!_

_Merry Christmas!_


	17. Seventeen confusing lulz

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Seventeenth: Seventeen confusing lulz**

Now that the two of them weren't in any immediate danger like they had been on the Autobot base, Prowl and Jazz could walk around separately. Something Prowl sorely had needed for a while. Not that he disliked Jazz in any way, they were together after all, but a break was appreciated.

Still, he kept his communication link open so he could listen to the small reports Jazz sent out, telling about the odd Decepticons he encountered.

Like the little chat Jazz had had with Starscream, the scientist curious about their world as much as Jazz was about this one. It was strange to hear that this Starscream only had honest praise to tell about the Decepticon leader. And there was a Predacon, Razorclaw, who had been a science professor at Tyrest.

It was mindboggling and Prowl's logic center was having a hard time keeping up.

And no, he didn't think it was a good idea for Jazz to look for Soundwave, he had told the saboteur that but hadn't gotten a response since.

Not until a voice cut through his calming walk.

"_HAHA, PROWL, ya gotta see this, man!_" Jazz was laughing loudly over the communication, barely able to restrain himself.

Prowl sighed, heading towards Jazz' location.

Jazz was grinning like a fool when the tactician arrived, immediately pointing at the mech beside him.

It was Soundwave. The majority of his frame was white and the rest blue but what seemed to stand out more was the cheerful wave that followed once Prowl stood in front of them.

"Totally wicked meeting you, 'Prowler'," Soundwave – _Soundwave!_ – cheered, his voice carrying every ounce of how 'awesome' it was, causing Prowl to stop dead in his tracks.

This… This wasn't Soundwave.

Prowl barely moved when Jazz patted his shoulder, grin amazingly wide. "That ain't even the best part!" he laughed, pointing downwards, causing Prowl to look by Soundwave's pedes. "Lookat what I taught 'im."

Down there beside Soundwave, sat Ravage, the casseticon white and blue like the strange communication expert, a giddy smile on the feline's features.

Prowl almost reeled back when Ravage spoke.

"Prowl hai u look funny Im Ravage." The white Decepticon jaguar even went so far as to lift a paw and wave at Prowl. "Merry Christmas! #lulz."

"'E's usin' chat-language, LOLspeak, how awesome's 'at!" Jazz laughed, ignoring how Prowl seemed frozen on the spot. The saboteur instead walked to Soundwave, putting an arm around the other's shoulders and guiding him down the hallway. "I gotta show ya sum crazy music I got, man, it'll totally make 'em all happy!"

"Right on, dude!" Soundwave answered in an equally excited tone.

Ravage stayed behind, staring at Prowl who still hadn't moved.

"Lul wat u ded?"

* * *

_A/N: Of course the crazy music would turn out to be Christmas music. Of. Course._

_I must admit, I love SG Ravage. LOLspeaking little weirdo. I wanted to use the 'at sign' in front of Ravage's 'Prowl hai' but won't allow that._

_There you go, Pyroth, hope you enjoyed! :D_

_Any ideas and suggestions are appreciated!_

_3 DAYS!_

_Merry Christmas!_


	18. Eighteen glued stickers

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Eighteenth: Eighteen glued stickers**

Hook sighed softly as he ran over the diagnostic scans they had gotten from the two strange mechs. There were so many things that didn't add up medically, and trying to figure out how best to deal with it wasn't easy. It was a first time situation.

This Jazz and Prowl were medical mysteries and while he was intrigued, he knew he had to at least look for the possibility of sending them back where they belonged. Meaning he had to digest a lot of scientific material as well. Starscream was trying to help, but it was a slow progress.

The little diagnostic drone chirped happily as it flew down to Hook, handing a few datapads he had requested. As a reward it earned a few pats before the medic went back to work. His attention was slipping though.

He tried to stop his processor from drifting on little things. Like why Scrapper still insisted the mindless drone had to wear a nurse cap. He guessed Scrapper saw it as more a pet than a drone. Sentimental mech he was.

His attention on the work left completely when _music_ suddenly blared from the overhead speakers. Blaring was probably over exaggerating, but it had been loud enough to disturb. The white and red medic stared, unsure what kind of music it was. It was nothing like he had ever heard before; even a lot of the words didn't make sense.

"_So this is Christmas._"

What now? Christmas? What was Christmas? He was certain it was nothing Megatron had begun or he would have heard about it.

"_And what have you done?_"

The song was oddly unnerving.

The drone beeped in greeting as the medical bay's door opened. Hook turned around in his chair a moment later and was met with a frazzled look on the seeker scientist's faceplate.

"Starscream," Hook greeted, putting the datapad down. "What can I help you wi—"

He stopped when Starscream simply turned, showing off a vast array of little symbols attached to his wings. Little stars and shapes like the Praxian one that Prowl was wearing combined with a lot of things that Hook didn't recognize.

The medic was quiet for a bit.

"_Another year over and a new one just begun._"

"I can't get them off," the scientist _almost_ whined, leaving Hook undecided whether he should huff or laugh. Whatever they signified, the symbols were stuck.

* * *

_A/N: And Hook wasn't sure he should be bothered with getting them off._

_Christmas is almost here you guys! I'm so stressed and happy and argh stressed. Managed two chapters today though, hurray for that. Sadly enough all of the snow disappeared. The weather's still freezing but there's no snow._

_The reviews are very much appreciated and thank you once again, Pyroth, for an awesome idea!_

_Always open for more!_

_Still 3 days to go!_

_Enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


	19. Nineteen yatter updates

**25 Days of Christmas 3**

**Nineteenth: Nineteen yatter updates**

It was strange, but the past day it seemed that no matter where he was, the Decepticons on the base and Jazz knew his precise location.

Prowl found it incredibly unnerving and he knew something was up when Jazz had a hard time not grinning widely when meeting him in the hallway. To be honest, it was driving Prowl up the wall – once again – and he had set out figuring out how they could all know.

The trip to the security room hadn't revealed anything new because they weren't following him on the monitors.

He hadn't been able to get anything out of Jazz, Starscream or Hook. Megatron was still not someone he was all too willing to look for without a good reason.

He was deep in his own thoughts when he passed two unfamiliar seekers in the hallway, both of them looking like Starscream just with different colors.

"Prowler," one of them commented, the other snickering, making the tactician stop. Okay, that was it.

"You two," he said, turning around to face them as they stopped and turned to glance at him. Prowl was still trying to figure out who the mechs were. With the same frame as Starscream, it could literally be many different 'Cons.

They seemed to notice that he trailed off because one of them soon chuckled. "Thundercracker," the red and black mech said, then pointing to the green and white seeker. "Skywarp."

Prowl stood still for a moment, digesting the information. So this was Thundercracker and Skywarp… He wondered how different their personalities were. But more important matters first. "Would you two please inform me how everyone knows where I am at all times?"

Thundercracker snorted, clearly finding that amusing. "You don't know?" he commented, seeing the tactician raise an optic ridge. "Of course you don't. Amazing, must be the first time he hasn't revealed himself on accident."

All through this, Skywarp didn't say a word, blue optics just glancing around before finally nudging Thundercracker's side with his elbow.

"You should really get a Yatter," Thundercracker hummed as Skywarp pointed at the ceiling somewhere behind Prowl. The tactician turned, optics narrowing as he zoomed in on a vent and spotted something familiar and white.

"Ravage?" he exclaimed, both confused and furious. The feline had actually followed him around and informed the rest?

_C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S_

A moment later, Jazz' HUD pinged with an incoming message from Yatter, an update from Ravage.

"_Noes bad found out, lulz bbl #running_" accompanied by a brilliant picture of the best Prowl-killing-glare Jazz had ever seen, making the saboteur laugh out loud.

* * *

_A/N: Prowl made sure to get a Yatter after that._

_There is no Thundercracker and Skywarp Shattered Glass versions so I had to make them up. Yatter is SG's version of Twitter that Ravage uses constantly. Pyroth, once again, love the ideas! _

_IT IS LITERALLY TWO HOURS INTO CHRISTMAS FOR ME (we celebrate on the 24th)! I am very excited. I realize that I won't be able to keep the schedule up and have the story finished by the 25th, but I hope to at least have it finished before the new year. Don't expect a chapter tomorrow, will be busy celebrating._

_How's everyone doing? Excited? Got all the presents wrapped? Love all the reviews by the way, thank you!_

_2 days to go!_

_Enjoy and Merry Christmas!_


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